


Enjoy the Silence

by AliciasClarke (fyeahgila)



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autism Spectrum, Fluff and Angst, James has Aspergers, Librarian AU, M/M, Thomas is a librarian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-15 18:32:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11236773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyeahgila/pseuds/AliciasClarke
Summary: James has Aspergers and one of his favourite places to be is the library, he can find calmness and peace there when things are getting too stressful. After the old librarian retires, he isn't too eager to meet her replacement. Though, it turns out that Thomas Hamilton is quite alright. If only he wasn't so entirely confusing...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys,  
> here it is, the first part of the librarian AU I have been talking about on Tumblr :D I really loved writing this so far and I hope you're enjoying it :)  
> The title was obviously inspired by Depeche Mode ;)  
> This will be a two-shot.

Bright sunlight was floating in through the floor to ceiling windows towards his right, illuminating the comfortable room where he had chosen to sit in one of the reading chairs as he was used to do. There was this particular chair standing furthest away from the others, a wall with bookshelves to its left. It was his favourite one to sit in and each time he found someone else occupying it, he didn’t really have a clue where else to take a seat while reading. James came to this library quite often, three or four times a week, depending on how stressful work was getting. 

For him, stress at work wasn’t when he had too much to do or something big came up half an hour before he wanted to call it a day. That he could handle pretty well, actually he worked even more effective in situations like these. The problem rather was the other people in the office. He worked as a financial analyst, coming up with models and calculations that his colleagues used to show their clients. Thanks god, he didn’t get in touch with any of those for most of the time. And if he did, the majority of them didn’t understand what he was explaining to them anyway, because the maths behind his models was way too complicated. So, they usually ended up talking to one of his colleagues in financial advising instead. 

Having to deal with too many people stressed him out immensely. It had always been tough for him to handle conversations and any social situations because he never quite knew how to behave. Normal human behaviour seemed as foreign to him sometimes as reading a book in Chinese would be for the usual person. No matter where he was or what he did, a lot of the time he just felt entirely out of place and disconnected from everyone else. His whole life he’d tried to fit in somehow, but interacting with other people or handling an everyday situation involving human beings was like a closed book for him. It had always been like this. While the other kids at school had learned how to handle all these ordinary things like buying rolls at a bakery, asking a teacher to explain something again because they hadn’t got it the first time, being involved in conversations and making friends, he’d always been the odd one out. 

His classmates thought he was a freak, because he would never just chat to them like they all did, talk about football, or later, girls. His teachers thought he was too quiet, too distant, constantly daydreaming, not paying attention during their lessons. That’s why his oral grades sucked and his parents had to come see the teachers regularly. Though, in exams he was brilliant. Especially in maths and physics. These also were the only classes where he got exceptional oral grades for calculating exercises on the chalkboard in front of the class. It didn’t require him to look at them while explaining what he was doing. 

There was almost nothing he disliked as much as having eye contact with someone. It was distracting and freaked him out. He never knew how to handle it, always had the impression that the other person could see right through him and deceive him as the nerd he was. He was afraid that they’d know, as soon as they looked at him that he was different and it annoyed him. That’s why he’d never directly look someone in the eye, rather fixated their brow instead, or their nose.

For almost twenty years of his life, until after he’d finished school and was about to start college, no one had a proper explanation as to why he was showing such behaviour. His parents had brought him to dozens of doctors, until finally, one of them had the idea to test him for autism. As it turned out, he had a light form of it, Aspergers. The doctor said this might also explain why he excelled at maths and had an incredibly graphical memory. For his parents, this diagnosis had been a salvation because for years they’d feared that there was something clinically wrong with him, like having a brain tumour. For James himself, it didn’t really change anything. He still couldn’t deal with people any better and it was tough for him to handle his daily life. 

But at least he went to college to study maths and economics. There he still didn’t really make any friends, he just met a girl in one of his advanced maths courses, who was almost equally socially awkward and who ended up fancying him. He’d never had a girlfriend before, so he had no clue how to deal with things. It turned out that he fucked up completely because he was being too scared, no matter how many romance novels he was reading, trying to figure out how people behaved in situations like these. He also never felt any of these feelings described there when hanging out with this girl, but it didn’t seem odd to him, because it had always been tough to identify any feelings. There was just fear, anger, sadness, happiness, surprise and disgust. The six basic emotions inherent in all human beings. Love was way more complex than that and he already had huge trouble figuring out when someone was using sarcasm or irony. 

A semester later - the girl wasn’t talking to him anymore at that time - it turned out that it hadn’t only been a problem of not being able to figure out emotions. The main reason rather was that he just didn’t really fancy girls. He met Felix Bradford, captain of the football team, because their teacher had suggested James to help him with maths. Felix probably was the best-looking guy in their class, having that typical California surfer look with long curly blond hair and huge blue eyes. Every single girl on campus seemed to be swooning over him, but while he liked snogging with them at parties, he never seemed to have a girlfriend. Of course, everyone thought he was a player and Felix himself claimed he was way too busy with school and all the tournaments. 

One day, though, James had found out what really went on with this pretty boy he was helping with maths. When he’d shown up to go through some exercises together a couple days before an exam, he found Felix drunk and red-eyed on the floor of his bedroom, a bottle of whiskey next to him. Obviously, James hadn’t known how to react to this situation at all. He wasn’t good at cheering people up when they were sad. So, for him the only logical thing had been, to also lie down on the floor, waiting for what the other guy had to say. He still didn’t know why Felix had told him back then, probably he thought that the weird ginger kid wouldn’t snitch on him anyway. But it turned out that he was in this drunk and broken state because his boyfriend - who went to another university - had left him. Of course, James hadn’t found any words to reply to him, so what he did instead, because he thought it might cheer Felix up and he couldn’t think of anything else, was to lean over and place a chaste kiss on his mouth. Up to this day there was no logical explanation as to why he’d done so, but it had seemed to be the only right thing back then. The other guy had stared at him wide-eyed with shock for a while and then just cracked up in laughter. For a moment, James thought that it had worked, until Felix said, he always knew that James was a pansy too. He wasn’t really freaked out about this statement and had no clue then whether Felix was right or not. 

Fact was that after this day, Felix had ended up fucking him for a couple of months rather than studying maths and James didn’t know what to make of it. Obviously, he fancied the blond athlete, he was hot and James was naïve, innocent, and insecure. He had no clue whether he liked that boy for being the only one giving him any attention, or hated him for treating him that way. Because even if he couldn’t tell what real love looked like, he thought he knew from all the novels he’d read that it certainly wasn’t like that. Felix had shown up whenever he needed a shag, always left right after, and he’d never been there for James when he needed him. 

But this all had happened nearly ten years ago. Now he was in his early thirties, still pretty much friend-less – if you didn’t count in his flatmate Eleanor, some of her friends who also were being more or less friendly to him, and Mrs. Henderson, the old lady from the library – and he still hadn’t figured out what love felt like. He could have read thousands of romance novels and still not understand this very feeling. Though, by now, he’d given up on this kind of literature. Mostly he enjoyed reading classics like Shakespeare or Goethe, Greek epics as well. Apart from that, he liked books about maths or physics because they were challenging his brain. Sometimes he even read poems in French. When he didn’t feel like reading anything sophisticated, he chose autobiographies or non-fiction novels because they were like documentaries, just in written form and he loved documentaries. They weren’t as distracting as most other things shown on TV, they weren’t as noisy and didn’t use gaudy colours either. 

Today was the day Mrs. Henderson would be retiring. She’d worked at the library since long before James started coming there. She appeared like a proper elderly lady in her early seventies, but underneath that façade she was probably the most warm-hearted and affectionate person James had ever met. Never in all the years he’d been a visitor at the library, had she just once made a weird comment about his distant behaviour. All this time she’d accepted when he didn’t want to talk, hadn’t called him out once for not looking her in the eyes when being at the front desk for getting a book. Sometimes they even had a little chat and right before Christmas, she’d given him chocolate and he’d brought her Earl Grey. James didn’t want to admit it, but he’d actually miss her when he’d come around in the future and wouldn’t find her in her chair behind her desk. So, when he had finished reading for that day and went over to check the book out and take it home, for the first time in months, he didn’t know what to say to her. 

“Can you believe it, I’ve been here for forty-eight years”, little old Mrs. Henderson told him as she was scanning his book. “It will be odd not to come here tomorrow.”

“I believe so”, James replied, just to say something. Obviously, he couldn’t imagine how this must be feeling at all. 

“Well, it’s not like I won’t be coming here anymore, ever. I’ll be sitting in one of these chairs with you, reading”, Mrs. Henderson smiled at him, though he couldn’t see it because he was looking down at the book on the table between them. 

“You will?”, he asked, a little surprised and raised his head. He hadn’t thought of this possibility yet, but it made perfect sense. Obviously, Mrs. Henderson wouldn’t just abandon her library. 

“Of course! It’ll be nice, getting the other perspective”, she meant. 

“Sure, it will”, James agreed, nodding lightly. 

“Who’ll be…taking over for you?”, he thought of adding then. He hated to imagine anyone else but Mrs. Henderson sitting at that desk. 

“Oh, he’s quite lovely! Mr. Hamilton, he’s just a boy like you, really charming young man”, she gave back, looking delighted. 

“I’m not just a boy anymore, Mrs. Henderson”, James reminded her, a slight smile on his lips, because this was like their running-gag. He always pointed this out to her. 

“Oh, James, come on, I could be your nanna!”, was her usual answer. “But you’ll like him, he’s quite sophisticated, smart-looking. Really lovely young man this Mr. Hamilton”, she added, smiling. Apparently, she was more than just happy that someone like this would be her replacement. 

“Well…I’m sure I’ll get to know him sooner or later”, he commented not as enthusiastic. It was always tough for him meeting new people. By now he'd got used to Mrs. Henderson so much, that seeing anyone else but her in that chair made him feel unwell. 

“Of course, you will, you’re basically living at this library”, Mrs. Henderson smirked. “And we’ll surely be seeing enough of each other here to make you believe I’m still working.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Now, have a good evening, Mrs. Henderson, and enjoy your free time!”, James meant, before taking his book and saying goodbye to the little old lady. 

 

It had been three days since Mrs. Henderson retired and three days since he last went to the library. He’d finished the book he’d borrowed the day before and actually longed for the calmness of the library. This day at work had been incredibly exhausting for him, because there was a meeting with some colleagues where he had to present the project he was just working on. As long as he only had to talk about numbers and approaches, things were relatively manageable, but the problem about it was that he had to stand in front of at least fifteen people and act as if he wouldn’t panic at each moment. Afterwards he felt as if he hadn’t get any sleep for days and found it hard to focus on his remaining tasks for that day. So, he’d decided to leave an hour early with the goal to just get home and lie on the couch. But now on the tube he considered that sitting in the library with a new book probably was the nicer way to relax a little. The only downside to this was that there would be this new librarian he had never seen before. He already couldn’t deal with meeting new people too well when he was having a good day, but after a day like the one he’d just had? It seemed like an unsolvable task. 

Nevertheless, he got off the train one station early, his feet leading him to the well-known building as he tried to keep his calm. There was no need to talk much. He’d just hand back the book he was carrying with him in his bag, then go look for something new to read and sit down in his favourite chair to do so. No big deal, he could totally handle it. As he went inside the library, it was odd not too see Mrs. Henderson sitting there with her obligatory cup of tea, cheering up when she’d see him coming in. Instead there was a tall, blond man standing behind the desk, his back currently towards James as he was sorting through some books on the shelves behind him. He approached the desk and laid down the book, waiting quietly for the new librarian to turn around. 

“One moment, please, I’ll be right with you”, the man said, while James was staring down at the cover of the book in front of him. 

“So…”, he heard the librarian say after a short while and curiously lifted his gaze a little to take him in. Mrs. Henderson had been right when saying that her replacement was young, he barely seemed a day older than thirty. He was smiling at him lightly which just confused James and before he could meet his eyes, he looked down at the book again. 

“Good afternoon. Does this go back?”

James only nodded and he could feel the other’s gaze upon him, probably musing why he was being as rude as not to look up while talking to someone. He didn’t make any comment though, but took the book and scanned it. 

“All fine”, he meant. 

“Thanks”, James replied quietly and already turned to go over to the section with the science literature when the other man thought of adding something. 

“Oh, by the way, I’m your new librarian. Thomas Hamilton.”

“Okay”, he gave back, not quite sure what else to say. So, he just stared at a point slightly off the librarian’s right shoulder for a second, before remembering that he wanted to look for a new book to read. 

Aimlessly browsing through some rows of books, James was pondering what to think about the new librarian. He was quite smartly dressed, a bit like James himself was because of his job. It didn’t really make him look like your typical librarian, but then again, Mrs. Henderson probably had been the archetype of librarians. Apart from that, he seemed to be alright. At least, he hadn’t felt the way he sometimes did when meeting certain snobby or intolerant people. They had that certain kind of charism that he couldn’t quite grasp and that annoyed and intimidated him. When finding a book about Machine Learning that spiked his interest, he forgot to wreck his brains about the librarian and went over to find the chair closest by the window unoccupied. 

After reading the first three chapters, the letters started blurring before his eyes and a look on his watch told him that it already was twenty minutes before the library was closing. Almost two hours had flown by, but as James took the book over to the check-out, he felt re-vitalised. There had almost no one else been in the library, at least he hadn’t noticed. The silence and almost solitude he found there always helped him to feel less stressed after a long and difficult day. 

“Did you find something?”, the new librarian asked as James came closer to the front desk and he nodded in reply, lying the book onto the table for him to scan it. 

“Here you go”, the blond man said, printing out one of those recipes that reminded you when to hand the book back again and put it inside. “Have a nice evening”, he added, smiling once more, but James didn’t notice, since he had his view directed downwards. 

“You too”, James replied, taking the book and made his way home. 

 

Over the course of the next few weeks, each time he went to the library, the new librarian was in an equally friendly mood than when he’d first seen him. It turned out, though, that he seemed quite talkative, but James never really knew if he was only being nice or actually wanted to have a chat. Because that wasn’t something he was great at and so he ended up just replying sporadically, whenever he found something he could add. By now, James had decided that he could stand the new guy, but he didn’t really know how to behave around him, because he tended to confuse him. He had a distracting smile that James secretly liked a lot and also his eyes were something else. When directly looking at other people, usually James felt at unease, he feared they would figure out he was strange and would treat him like the kids had back at school, like a weirdo. 

Last week, when he accidentally made eye contact with Thomas Hamilton, though, something exceptional had occurred: he hadn’t felt like he was being x-rayed, and judged, for probably the first time in his life. It would be exaggerated to say that it had been enjoyable, but it had certainly been different. When he’d met the librarian’s eyes, he’d seen no reluctance or antipathy there, no pity either. That was what most people were acknowledging him with and it was utterly offending, made him feel inferior and react even more insecure than he already was. There only was something in his look, that James had no words for, maybe one would call it benignity, but he wasn’t sure about it. Either way, it had startled him so much that he almost panicked and had to avert his eyes, because he wasn’t used to people looking at him like this. 

On some days, James contemplated whether he should try having an actual conversation with the librarian. Mrs. Henderson – whom he’d also met one time or another and just sat in companionable silence with her in the reading chairs – had been right about her replacement. He certainly seemed sophisticated and maybe also charming, which terrified James. There was no way he could have a chat with a man like that without making a complete fool out of himself. The thought alone made him almost break out in sweat. If he embarrassed himself too much, probably he wouldn’t have the guts afterwards to come back to this library and he really, really loved this place. So, instead of trying to talk to the librarian, James just stuck to sitting in the chair by the window day after day, reading his books. Sometimes he noticed over the rim of a book that the blond man was passing by, looking for certain books, or putting them back on the shelves. While doing so, at times, James felt the other’s gaze upon him for some short moments. He didn’t know what to make of it and acted like he was too engrossed in his literature to notice. 

It had been about a month now that Mrs. Henderson had retired and Thomas Hamilton had taken over for her. One Thursday evening, James was particularly absorbed in a non-fictional travel essay about a young man who went out into the wilderness of Alaska to live a nomadic life just to find a tragic and untimely end. He didn’t realise that it was closing-hour until he was disrupted in his reading. 

“You seem rather captivated”, the librarian’s voice made him look up to the man standing a few metres away, slightly leaning against one of the bookshelves. “’Into the Wild’ it is?”, he added, a light smile on his lips, nodding towards the book cover. 

“Yeah”, James just managed to say, fidgeting with the now-closed book in his hands. 

“Good choice, it’s amazingly inspiring”, he commented. “I’m sorry to disrupt you, but we’re closing”, he informed him then. 

“Oh”, James made, taking a look at his watch. It was already a tad after closing-time. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, no worries, happens to us all sometimes”, the other man returned, smiling once more. 

“I’ll just, uh…put these back”, James pointed to the two books lying on the armchair beside him and got up to do so. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll get them for you”, the librarian meant, stepping closer to take the books out of his hands. 

“Thanks”, James got out in a low voice, his gaze directed to somewhere between their bodies. 

The other man was standing way too close for his liking, but he had trouble with someone intruding his personal space anyway. Although, somehow, this annoyed him less than it usually did. Actually, he wasn’t almost on the verge of panicking, but his heart was still racing. Thomas Hamilton was having quite the paradox effect on him. On the one hand, he didn’t freak him out as much as anyone else did, he might even calm him down. But on the other hand, he was impossibly bewildering and there was nothing James would rather wish to do than to run away, because he couldn’t stand being this close to him only one second longer. He didn’t, though, because there was something intoxicating about the taller man, that made him forget how to use his own feet, let alone how to even breath. 

“Don’t mention it”, the librarian answered.

There was again this hint of a smile in his voice and James couldn’t refrain himself from lifting his gaze to see the other’s lips curl up and then he met his eyes. They were of a clear light-blue, carrying the warmth that also lay in his smile and there was something more, James had obvious difficulties pinpointing. All he knew was that Thomas Hamilton was extraordinary and he possessed the capability to enthral, as well as to terrify him. 

“I…I should leave”, he finally managed to get out after what felt like an eternity, but couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, while his cheeks started burning. 

He just couldn’t manage it any longer to be this close to the other one, to have him look at him like that. It didn’t make him panic and become paranoid as usual, but it still freaked him out a big deal and also, he felt embarrassed for some reason. 

“Do you want to take this with you?”, the librarian asked, referring to the book he just had been reading. James only could reply with a nod because his mouth seemed to dry to for an actual sentence. 

“Alright, I’ll check this out for you”, he meant and walked back over to the front desk, James following behind him, bedazzled. 

 

After this evening, he didn’t show up at the library for almost a whole week. This new librarian was entirely confusing and James didn’t have the slightest clue what to do about it. He wanted to talk to him so badly, but he was too shy, too self-conscious for doing so. Hell, he didn’t even know what exactly it was that made him so special and differentiated him from everyone else he met. 

When he went to the library next, James had decided to interact with the blond man as little as possible because the world was already too loud and dizzying for him without adding the way this man made him feel. It wasn’t something he could put concrete words to, except that he was bemused most of the time when seeing the librarian or thinking about him. During the last couple of days, James had found himself wondering about that tall man countless of times. There was no logical explanation as for why he couldn’t get him off his mind and he hated it. 

For James, things always had to be logical. Otherwise he didn’t understand them. Studying Latin grammar, or solving complicated mathematical problems never had been hard for him because they were following a clear logic that most other parts of life, especially human interaction, was lacking. What was the reason for someone behaving in a certain way, why did they act like this, but didn’t do something else? All these were questions James never really understood. And Thomas Hamilton probably was the biggest puzzle he’d ever encountered. He was a walking paradox and James had no idea as to how to deal with it. That’s why he figured it would be best to have as little interaction with him as possible. 

After leaving the library an hour later, he thought he’d succeeded pretty well in his endeavour. He’d nodded at the librarian in greeting and then said: “Have a good evening” before he left. Nothing more than that, it had been easier than anticipated and made him feel less stressed out than he’d been before. 

At home, he was alone as most evenings because Eleanor was usually working the late shift at a pub. But he didn’t care, actually he appreciated the solitude and retreated to his room with the new book he’d borrowed. When opening it, he noticed that there were two pieces of paper stuck between the cover and first page. Not just the usual reminder as to when bring the book back, but also another one, folded in half. Probably he wouldn’t have thought any more of it, somebody might have used it as a bookmark. But it was light white paper and he could see ink shimmering through. Curiously, he took it out of the book and unfolded it. 

_Had a busy week?_  
What did you think of Chris McCandless’s story?  
T.H. 

Was printed there in neat handwriting. For a moment, James was too startled to comprehend any of these words. Then, it began to dawn on him that the librarian must have snuck him that note while he’d scanned the book earlier. T.H. obviously had to stand for Thomas Hamilton. Also, he knew that James last had read ‘Into the Wild’. It was the only logical explanation that it was from him. Not so reasonable, however, was the question why he’d written it and stuck it to the new book James had got. 

Why did he want to know these things? Why did he inquire whether James had had a busy week? Maybe because he used to show up at the library almost every second day. And then he hadn’t been there for a week. An eager observer probably would first suppose that he’d had better things to do, more important ones. The actual reason for James to stay away from the library, however, had been that he was overwhelmed by social norms once more. There was no honest answer he could give to this first question that wouldn’t make him appear completely freaky. As for the other question, James wasn’t entirely sure what Thomas Hamilton’s purpose here was. Did he want to communicate to him via small notes snuck into books now? Was this his attempt at starting a conversation with James in a way that didn’t require him to speak because he’d noticed that this wasn’t something James was great at? There clearly were too many open questions and he had not the slightest concept of how to answer any of them yet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> I'm terribly sorry it took me so long to finish this, but this semester is cruel and I barely get to breath...now after writing the whole thing, I think that maybe another title would have fit better, but oh well xD   
> thank you so much to everyone who read this, liked this, especially to those who commented, I really, really apprecciate it, thank you guys! And I hope that you'll enjoy this 2nd and final chapter just as much as the 1st :)

Of course, after finding the librarian’s note, James couldn’t just go back to reading his book in peace. No matter how easily he could usually focus on a given task, this was a little too distracting, even for him.  
Had he had a busy week? Not more so than most other weeks, though the reason he hadn’t showed up at the library a regularly as he was used to, was entirely something else. Or better said, someone. And now, Thomas Hamilton had actually managed to make James’s confusion about him worse. His first instinct was to ignore it, not to reply to it. If he showed up at the library the next time and handed the book back without leaving a note in return, probably the librarian would leave it be and not try to involve him in a conversation again.  
But truth was, that James didn’t want this. He rather wished he could sit down with him and have a chat like normal people did. But he knew that he was too awkward, not socially skilled enough, to do so without embarrassing himself within a minute and running away, ashamed. So maybe, what Thomas Hamilton had started by slipping him that message, was an actual chance to get to talk to him without literally having to speak. 

James decided to sleep on it for a night and figure something out the next day, but instead of falling asleep, he lay in bed wide awake, musing about the things he could reply. If he said he hadn’t been too busy, why didn’t he come to the library more often then? He couldn’t tell the librarian that he didn’t show because he wanted to keep his distance from him. Because why then, would he bother to think about replying to his message? James wished that he could write it all down, the whole truth, all of it. That he wasn’t good with people and that human interaction scared and confused him. And that Thomas Hamilton did so in particular. And that he didn’t know how to react to that. But of course, he was too coward and his heart already started racing at the mere idea of spelling these things out. In the end, he grew tired of his own train of thoughts and stumbled out of bed at nearly 1am to sit in the kitchen with a piece of paper and a pen to write down some of the things plaguing his mind.  
He started over almost a dozen times, striking through lines, adding others. By the time he finally was done, it was almost 2:30am and he could barely keep his eyes open anymore, but he was fairly content with how it had turned out. For now, at least; because as he knew himself, he might very well throw this away the next day and come up with something completely else. But for now, it didn’t sound too bad, when scanning once more what he’d written as a reply. 

_It wasn’t any more busy than usual, but sometimes I just tend to be too exhausted to leave the house again after I came home from work…  
Chris’s story was remarkable, even if it ended in a tragic way, or maybe also because of it. Don’t we all wish sometimes that we could escape it all, the everyday struggles, be free, and just live for a while? I think that’s what he wanted the most…just live. Most people are too scared of doing so and I’m afraid, I’m one of them…_

The last line was surprisingly honest, but he felt like it was the truth and didn’t see a reason why he should refrain from admitting this. With the prospect of re-writing it a little neater when he woke up, James could finally lie down in peace and fell asleep almost as soon as he switched off the lights. 

 

It was a rainy Wednesday and hours at work seemed to stretch endlessly that day. He was incredibly tired from staying up that late, writing his reply for Thomas. By now he’d decided to leave formalities away when referring to the librarian in his thoughts, because there was no need, he was exchanging little messages with him after all, or at least, was about to do so this evening after work. To his own surprise, he hadn’t changed anything much about the note he’d written anymore, just added the question of what Thomas thought of the book, because he really was interested to know.  
Obviously, he was a bit anxious about this as well, he’d never done anything like it before. Not even at school, he was the weird kid, nobody would have wanted to exchange little notes with him. But the fact that Thomas had started it, indicating that he was looking for a way to be in contact with James, made it less frightening. It meant that he probably expected his answer. Would he be disappointed if James decided at the very last moment to take the note out of the book again before handing it back? He kept wondering about this for a while, only to realise that he was in the process of calculating a completely different model than had been asked of him. Sighing, he pressed his hands on his face, taking some deep breaths. Where was his focus gone? He’d barely stopped thinking about Thomas since he read his message the night before. James didn’t really know what to make of this, but he needed to finish his calculations. So, he got up to make himself a new cup of tea and then started to work on his model anew. 

When he finally got off work, it was almost closing hour at the library until he reached it. There wasn’t much need to go looking for a new book to read within fifteen minutes, so he ended up just standing in front of the library for half a minute, contemplating whether he should even enter, or rather come back the next day. But then he spotted Thomas through the huge glass windows, walking towards his desk and in doing so, he recognised James standing out there. For a moment, they were just looking at each other through the front door, then James finally pulled himself together and walked in. 

“Hey there”, the librarian greeted him, with this smile on his lips that James both loved, and hated because it flustered him. “I thought you were going to stay out there, watching the books from afar”, he added, and if James could interpret his tone of voice correctly, he sounded teasing. 

“Hi…I…I thought…you’re closing soon”, he stammered out, directing his gaze towards the wooden floor, because he felt his cheeks flushing and quietly cursed himself for always being so easily embarrassed. 

“Well, I do. But if you need to pick a new read…just go ahead”, Thomas offered, gesturing towards the bookshelves to underline his statement. 

“I…actually, I just wanted to hand this back”, James meant, holding the book out to him without looking up at him. 

“Alright, thanks”, the librarian took it to scan it, and now James lifted his gaze, curiously, observing his reaction to finding the note inside. 

He saw him smirk a little, then looking over to seek out James’s eyes and when another smile spread on his face, James suddenly felt all hot and his cheeks turned an even brighter shade of red. No longer able to stand Thomas’s gaze upon him, he averted his eyes once more, mumbling:

“I…I should…good evening…”

“Have a good evening, James”, he heard the librarian call after him as he already was halfway out the door. He was so busy being abashed that it didn’t even strike him that Thomas had called him by his first name. 

 

It took him only a day to return to the library, because he was bored and needed something to read and if he was being completely honest, also because he wanted to know if Thomas would slip him another slip of paper, replying to his message from the other day. 

When he entered the library, Thomas was busy scanning a book for a young girl, but when he noticed James passing by, he lifted a hand in greeting and smiled at him warmly. James nodded at him, feeling his lips curl into a small smile at the sight of the librarian. 

This day, he chose to read de Bello Gallico and as he walked over to his favourite chair, he could already see Mrs. Henderson occupying one close by. 

“James!”, she called out to him in a hushed voice. “How lovely to see you again, how are you?” 

“Thanks, I’m fine, Mrs. Henderson. How’s life as a pensioner?”, he inquired and pulled the chair closer, so he could sit with her and have a little chat. There wasn’t really anyone near them who could complain about them talking and they weren’t behaving loudly anyway. 

“Oh, I’m doing great, Rob and I visited our son and the grandkids in Liverpool last week! I’m also doing a lot of gardening now, it’s all quite amazing”, Mrs. Henderson told. 

“That sounds nice”, James agreed. 

“What did you pick?”, the old lady asked, referring to the book in his hands. 

“It’s de Bello Gallico”, he replied, holding up the book for her to see the cover. 

“Oh, you always have to choose these highly sophisticated things”, she teased him. “By the way, how do you like the new librarian?”, Mrs. Henderson added after a while. 

“Uhm...he’s...nice, I guess”, James gave back, mildly startled by this question.

“Didn’t you get to talk to him yet?”, the former librarian wanted to know. 

“I…we’re exchanging a few words. Every now and then”, he explained, starting to feel slightly uncomfortable because he’d never openly talked to Mrs. Henderson about his difficulties in social situations, although she was aware of it, obviously. 

“He asked me about you a couple days ago, you know?” 

“He did?”, James answered, taken aback. Why would Thomas do this, what did he want to know about him from Mrs. Henderson? 

“Well, I think, he’d really like to talk to you, get to know you. And I know that these things aren’t coming to you easily, James. But, what I want to say is...don’t always make it so hard for people to get to know you. There’s nothing about you that you need to be ashamed of, you’re a nice and smart man. You should know that”, the old lady said and he looked down onto his fidgeting hands, touched by her words. 

“...thanks, Mrs. Henderson”, he got out, his voice sounding oddly raspy. 

“I mean it. You told me once you were lonely sometimes and I said I’ll be your friend. I am. But I think you should give other people a chance to see you, too”, she went on. “He’s a nice young man, well-educated, sharp-witted. Like you. You should make some more friends your own age, James.”

“I’ll try”, he just replied. He was aware that she meant well, even if he couldn’t just change the way he was and start being great at making small-talk and finding new friends.

“Do you mind…?”, he added then, holding his book up, asking if it was okay to stop talking and read instead and she only nodded, smiling lightly. 

He really didn’t want to get into the topic of Thomas Hamilton any more for the moment. For some reason, he feared Mrs. Henderson could find out about the notes they’d passed and he didn’t want anyone to know. It felt too intimate, even though they’d written nothing delicate or too personal. 

Also, he wasn’t sure what exactly it was that he was getting into with the new librarian. Was he only looking to make a new friend, someone he could discuss literature with, or have a cup of tea with every now and then?  
Or did he want more than that, something special, someone whom he couldn’t get off his mind again, and didn’t want to. Someone who might be able to truly see him, understand him, accept the way he was and who’d still like him, no matter what. Deep down he knew that it was the latter. He was longing for someone to look at him and not just see the weird guy who couldn’t hold eye contact and didn’t greet back sometimes. He wanted someone to look at him and see through his barriers of anxiety and awkwardness. And Thomas Hamilton certainly did.

By now James was sure that he hadn’t just imagined things, because the way Thomas looked at him made him feel weak and strong, self-conscious and encouraged all at the same time. But most of all it scared him like barely anything had before. Thomas was everything he wished he could be, he was talkative, amazingly eloquent, and incredibly charming. He was a really nice person and also pretty handsome. For someone like James, it would already feel like a dream to just be friends with someone like Thomas, but anything more than that? It was tough to imagine, and James felt that even if they kept up writing those little notes, he’d always just be fancying the blond man from afar because there was no way he’d be interested in him like that. James couldn’t even understand why Thomas would be interested in talking to him at all. Though, there must be something that James couldn’t find an explanation for, because it seemed like the librarian really wanted to get to know him. Otherwise he wouldn’t have sent that note, wouldn’t have asked Mrs. Henderson about him. 

“Mrs. Henderson? What did he...what was it he asked you about me?”, he wanted to know from the old lady then, looking up from his book. 

“Oh, just if I knew you, if you’ve come here for a long time. I said I’ve known you for years and that it wasn’t easy to get to talk to you at first but that you’re a good lad and it’s worth trying to get to know you”, the small woman meant, smiling knowingly. 

“Why...why do you think he...why does he want to know me?”, James dared to ask her then, staring down at the book in his hands. 

“That’s something you should ask him, my dear boy. He’s a kind man, you don’t have to be afraid”, she assured him. 

“Thanks, Mrs. Henderson”, he said, once more. 

“Oh, not for that”, she dismissed it with a gesture of her hand. “I need to leave now, Rob will be wondering where I am and when dinner will be ready”, she added then, sounding excusing. 

“It was good to see you again”, he said, smiling a little as she got up. 

“And you, James. Have a nice evening”, Mrs. Henderson replied and then made her way home. 

James stayed there in his chair for another few minutes, trying to read on, but ended up thinking back on their conversation and no matter what he did, his thoughts always came back to Thomas. Who most certainly was downstairs behind his desk right this very moment. It would be so easy for everyone else to go there and come up with something, anything, to tell him. If James just was different. But he was the way he was and therefore all he did, was hoping that Thomas would have answered to his note. So, when he went downstairs with his new book, he was a bit anxious. What if Thomas hadn’t prepared another message in reply? What if he’d read James’s and found it silly and had decided not to keep this up? What if he started to talk to him about it instead of just writing things down and James would be too flustered and embarrassed to reply? 

“Did you find something interesting?”, Thomas’s voice ripped him out of his thoughts and he was a little surprised to find himself standing at the front desk. 

“Yeah, I...I think so”, James replied, chiding himself for not being able to not stammer when talking to the other man. 

“The Gallic War? Oh, I remember reading that in Latin class”, Thomas laughed at the memory and the sound of it almost made James’s heart skip a beat. He couldn’t think of a single thing to reply to that, it was like his mind had been whipped empty. 

“Here, I hope you enjoy reading it”, the librarian said next and James caught him winking at him, which made him blush. 

“Thanks...uhm”, he cleared his throat. “Have a good evening.” 

“You as well, see you”, Thomas gave back, smiling. 

As soon as James had walked a short distance away from the library, he opened the book, a grin spreading on his face when seeing the folded piece of paper there. 

 

For almost two weeks, he kept exchanging these small notes with Thomas. They told each other about their favourite authors and books, including some quotes they liked. Thomas told him that sometimes he also felt this urge to flee reality and that this was the reason why he loved books so much and always had wanted to be a librarian. James thought it was admirable and awesome that Thomas had managed to realise his dream. In return, he’d told him that he was pretty great with maths and numbers, because Thomas had remarked his liking for science literature.  
By now he had seven of these small pieces of paper with Thomas’s thoughts on them. He really liked his handwriting, it was neat and yet beautifully squiggled. When he went to the library, he wasn’t just looking forward to picking out a new interesting book anymore, but to seeing the librarian, and to the little notes he wrote him as well. The eight message he got, though, was completely different from all the others. It wasn’t a reference to a book. Neither a short anecdote, or a little story Thomas had remembered. It simply said: 

_Would you like to come see me at the library on Saturday at 4pm? I understand if you’ve got different plans already, or if you don’t want to...but I’d be really looking forward to meeting you there._

For a moment, James was confused, because why would Thomas ask him to see him at the library? He came there three or four times a week. Furthermore, the library wasn’t even open Saturdays at 4pm. After a while, it dawned on him, though. Thomas didn’t ask him to come to the library as usual. He wanted to see him alone, outside of the opening-hours. At this realisation, he started to panic a little. What was this about? Had Thomas Hamilton asked him out on some kind of date? James couldn’t tell, he didn’t really have any dating experience to fall back on. The thing he had with this girl at college was odd and awkward. They’d just hung out, studied together and then ended up holding hands and snogging eventually. Felix Bradford had been something completely different anyway that couldn’t hold as a comparison. Just as he was about to panic even more, he heard Eleanor coming home and got an idea. 

“Hi”, he said as he stepped into the kitchen where she was just heating up some dinner in the microwave. It had taken him at least half an hour to bring up the guts to leave his room and tell her about what was bothering him. 

“Hey, James”, his flatmate greeted him with a smile. 

“Do you...can I talk to you about something?”, he wanted to know, insecure, standing at the door, ready to retreat again. 

“Oh, if it’s about the dishes, I will put my stuff away, I’ll do them later. Sorry, I know that you dislike it when it’s untidy here”, she meant, gesturing towards some plates and cutlery lying in the basin. 

“No, that’s not...it’s something else”, he returned, not looking at her because he was a bit ashamed to be talking to her about this topic. But he didn’t know what else to do. And she’d understand, hopefully. 

“So, what’s it?”, Eleanor asked, smiling at him encouragingly, which obviously he couldn’t see. “Do you want to sit down and have some pasta with me?”, she added then. 

“Thanks, I had dinner earlier”, he replied, but still took a seat at their tiny kitchen table. 

“Are you okay?”, his flatmate suddenly wanted to know, sounding worried. 

“Yeah...I just...I need your opinion on something”, he meant, staring at the fridge behind her. 

“Alright, shoot”, Eleanor meant, heartening. 

“So, I...I met someone…”, he began, no clue where else to start. 

“You met a girl? And you like her?”, his friend disrupted him, sounding excited. 

“No…”, he sighed a little. 

“No…?”

“It’s...it isn’t a girl”, he admitted, bravely meeting her eyes for a moment to observe her reaction. She seemed stunned for a moment. 

“Oh”, Eleanor made then, realisation dawning on her face. “You never mentioned you’re gay.” 

“I didn’t think it’s...it just never came up”, he shrugged. 

“When I dated Max, I literally had her over here and told you she was my girlfriend”, she said, incredulously and it almost sounded comical. James didn’t reply anything to that, because he didn’t know what he could have said, other than the obvious, that he wasn’t great at talking about his feelings. It was probably the thing he least liked talking about, because he was always lacking the words to express himself. 

“So, you met a bloke then. Is he cute?”, Eleanor asked, grinning at him. 

James blushed and nodded lightly, not able to find words. 

“What’s he like?”

“Uhm...he’s...he’s really nice. He’s…tall and blond and really well-read. I mean, obviously he is, he is a librarian. And when he smiles…”, here he stopped himself, not sure how to express this. Or if he even wanted to. It felt silly, saying out aloud that Thomas smiling at him made his heart race and his breath catch. 

“You met him at that library you’re always going to?”, Eleanor wanted to know, her pasta apparently long forgotten. 

“Yeah, he’s...he’s the new librarian”, he told. 

“You really do fancy him, don’t you?”, she said and James blushed a little more if this was even possible, which made her smile. “You do!”, she exclaimed, sounding almost triumphantly. 

“Okay...so, what’s your problem? You don’t know whether he’s into guys as well? You don’t know how to ask him out?”

“No, I think...he did? I...I’m not quite sure. We...we’ve been exchanging these notes and...that’s the last one he gave me”, James dared to admit and slid the small piece of paper over the table for Eleanor to read. It didn’t feel right to show her, it felt too private. But he wanted her opinion on it, so she had to see it, obviously. 

“You’re exchanging notes with him?”, she asked, eyes wide. “This is so sweet! Let me see that…”, his friend meant, excitedly, and picked up the paper to read. 

“This is so cute...I think he’s totally asking you on a date...at the library”, she commented, laughing. 

“You think so?”, James wanted to know, flustered. 

“Totally. You need to go there. I mean you want to, don’t you?”

“I...yeah, I do…”, he gave back, not quite sure because his mind was telling him otherwise. 

“But?”

“I...he makes me...I’m always confused around him. I forget how to speak, how to breath. He makes me blush and forget all the things I want to say...I will look like an idiot. I don’t think I can do it”, he sighed, putting a hand over his face. 

“Oh, James...that...is called having a crush on someone”, she laughed. “He won’t mind it. I mean, judging from everything you said and these notes, he clearly likes you!”

“So...what do I do?”

“What do you do? You meet him at the library, of course!”

“If this goes badly I won’t be able to go back there...and I love this library”, he argued. 

“You’re definitely something else, James”, Eleanor replied, shaking her head in feigned disbelief. 

“Not everyone is still friends with their exes…”, he gave back grumpily, hinting on Max still being her friend, although they were both seeing different people now. 

“Okay...well. Do you want to see him? Don’t think about your anxieties now. Just...do you want to meet him and get to know him?” 

“I’ve wanted to for weeks”, he admitted, almost sounding a little rueful.

“See, there you got your answer”, Eleanor deadpanned. 

“It isn’t that easy”, he sighed once more. 

“Sure, it is. And if you won’t go there on your own, I’ll have to drag you there, mind that, James McGraw, you stubborn git”, his friend threatened with a grin. 

 

In the end, Eleanor didn’t have to drag him to the library. It still needed a lot of pep talk and persuasion, though, to get James to a point where he actually believed that Thomas had only asked him to meet him because he wanted this just as much as James himself. He still felt like he might puke, or turn around and run away, at any given moment when on the tube to the station where the library was. It was only three stations from where he was living and Eleanor had had to google and make sure that there was, in fact, not only one, but two other libraries not too far away where he could start going to in case this turned out to be a horrible mistake. Shortly before the train stopped, James thought that he could stay put and drive on in order to avoid this. But surprisingly, he found himself stepping off the tube and onto the escalator. Before he could think about it twice, he was standing in front of the closed library. There was no turning back now, he’d have to get through with this. Actually, he wanted this, he wanted to see Thomas and finally, finally have the guts to have a conversation, get to know more about him. It still didn’t make him any less anxious and excited, though. Nervously, he ran a hand through his hair and as he was stepping a little closer to the door, he saw Thomas on the inside, spotting him that very moment. He waved at him through the glass windows and approached to open up for James. 

“James, hey”, Thomas greeted him, smiling. He had to admit that he quite liked the way his own name sounded when the librarian used it. It made him feel warm, welcome and accepted. 

“Hi”, James brought out, his mouth too dry to speak and his eyes were caught on the librarian’s smiling lips, which didn’t help at all. 

“You came here”, Thomas replied, almost in disbelief.

“You thought I wouldn’t”, James meant and it wasn’t a question. 

“I’m glad you did, though”, the librarian returned, giving him that special smile that made his knees weak and his mouth turn even drier. For a few seconds, they just stared at each other, apparently both momentarily at a loss for words, until James couldn’t stand to lose himself in the clear blue of Thomas’s eyes any longer and had to lower his gaze. 

“Come on in!”, the other man remembered then and stepped aside to let James pass through the entrance. 

“Do you…would you like a cup of tea?”, Thomas inquired when closing the door behind himself. 

“Yeah…sure”, he returned, shrugging. 

“Come on then”, the librarian said, leading the way up the stairs to where the reading chairs were. He’d pulled one of the other ones a little closer to the one James liked occupying and had as well set up a small table with a teapot, two cups and a plate with shortbread. 

“That’s your favourite place, isn’t it?”, he asked, knowingly, a little grin on his lips. 

“Yeah…it’s where you least likely get disrupted by people passing by”, James replied with a shy smile as they both were taking their seats. 

“I’ve seen you sitting here a lot and kept wondering why you’d always choose exactly this place”, Thomas explained and ducked his head when James looked at him in surprise. 

“Actually, I...I’ve noticed you passing by a lot”, James admitted and was glad not to be the only one to blush. 

“I didn’t want to distract you”, Thomas said, almost excusing. 

“You do, though”, James returned, amazingly honest and kept his gaze on the cup of tea that Thomas had filled a few moments ago. He didn’t have the slightest clue where this trace of courage was coming from all of a sudden, but to his greatest surprise he didn’t feel as anxious around Thomas as he’d been fearing about all the time. And to his astonishment, it also wasn’t as tough being able to keep up a conversation with him as he’d suspected. 

“So do you”, Thomas meant in feigned accusation and winked at him. 

“What?”, James asked, taken aback. Clearly, he’d misheard. He couldn’t imagine being the reason someone would be distracted by, let alone someone like Thomas. 

“You know...I’ve wanted to do this for weeks now. Just ask you out. Or have a chat with you. Every time you came to the library I got more curious about you, because you made it so hard to get to know you”, Thomas started to explain. 

“But I knew you wouldn’t be comfortable with it. I knew it wouldn’t be a great idea to suggest going to a pub or a café without making it awkward or stressful for you. And I didn’t want that, I wanted you to feel safe”, he added and his honesty made James’s heart ache with adoration. 

“How...how do you know that?”, he asked, completely taken aback by Thomas’s amount of consideration and thoughtfulness. Never before had someone been this amicable and attentive with him. 

“Well...after what Mrs. Henderson told me, I was almost certain that my assumptions about you have been correct. Please don’t be offended. But I’ve been working with kids with special needs for a while before going to college. That’s how I realised that you might be - and please, let me know if I’m wrong here - on the autism spectrum”, Thomas carefully mentioned, observing James’s reaction. 

“That’s...I am. I was diagnosed with Aspergers when I was 18”, he answered, still puzzled. 

 

“I’ve tried talking to you all this time...then I got the idea with the notes”, Thomas smiled. “And I really enjoyed exchanging these with you. But I couldn’t stand not being able to have a real conversation with you. And I’m so glad you came here, James. Thanks for that”, he told. 

“No, thank you. For being this considerate. That’s amazingly kind of you...and sweet”, James returned flustered, but an honest smile spread on his face. 

“I’ve wanted to talk to you, too. All the time”, he admitted then. “I just…I didn’t know how.”

“You do now, though”, Thomas observed. 

“It’s surprisingly easy”, he confessed. 

“I’m happy you feel this way”, Thomas said, smiling again and James could only mirror it, feeling a comfortable warmth spreading inside his chest.

“You said you worked with kids before college?”, James inquired, because he was interested to hear more about it. 

And that’s how Thomas ended up telling him all about his gap year in Chile and the experiences he made there. James could even get him to teach him some words in Spanish, whereupon he mentioned that whilst he might not know any Spanish, he enjoyed reading French poetry. It turned out that Thomas knew Italian as well and was currently reading ‘Il Decameron’ by Boccaccio, which was a series of short novels set in 14th century Florence. He even offered to read from it to James and obviously he was too curious to hear Thomas reading in Italian to decline. James had to admit that his pronunciation sounded quite professional for an Englishman speaking Italian, not that he could have objectively evaluated it, but he really enjoyed listening to him, although he barely understood a word.

From literature, to holiday destinations, to silly things that happened at college, to favourite tea flavours, screenplays, theatre plays, to politics and back to literature again, they kept telling and discussing for hours until it had long grown dark outside. 

James could barely understand what was happening here. Usually, he disliked conversations, because he had always trouble keeping them up, never found enough he could add, or ask. But with Thomas it was a completely different matter. It suddenly seemed the easiest thing in the world and he wished that it never would end. There always seemed to be something else he wanted to know, something new and interesting he could ask about. It was captivating and enthralling. Also, as the hours went by, it got easier as well to hold eye contact with him and he was amazed by how intent Thomas was. James was completely fascinated by the way he was telling his stories, speaking his mind, gesturing with his hands to underline his statements, all while he never grew tired of investigating things about James himself. 

It was almost 9:30pm, when Thomas declared that he was hungry and hadn’t eaten anything but shortbread since lunch, which made James laugh. 

“I could order some pizza. Or do you prefer something else? Indian, Chinese?”, he suggested. 

“Pizza would be fine with me, but…could we postpone that to another day?”, James gave back. “I’m…I feel really tired”, he added excusing, because just now he realised how exhausted he was from all the talking and listening. He wasn’t used to so much social interaction in just one day. They’d spent about five hours together, though it had only felt like one, two at most. As much as he would have loved to stay and have pizza with Thomas, he felt this inner unease grow once more, no matter how much fun it all had been so far. 

“Oh…of course. Yeah, let’s do this another time”, Thomas agreed, and James – though he usually had difficulties figuring things like these out – noticed the small hint of disappointment in his voice. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just…I’m not too great at all of this”, James tried, vaguely gesturing with his hands. 

“No, it’s fine. We can meet again when you feel up to it, alright?”, Thomas returned with an honest smile. 

“Yeah, let’s do that”, James nodded in agreement. 

“Let me walk you out”, Thomas offered, as James took his jacket from the backrest. 

In silence, they made their way downstairs and stopped at the door, quietly looking at each other, not quite ready to part yet, each still lingering in one another’s presence for a moment longer. 

“It’s been a wonderful evening, thanks for this, James”, Thomas dared to break the calm. 

“If one of us is to be thanked then you, this was a brilliant idea. I loved it”, he returned, smiling lightly. 

“I’m glad you did”, the librarian commented. 

“Also, I want to point out that I’d like to have pizza with you, Thomas...just not tonight”, James joked then. 

“It’s fine. We can do so anytime. Would you like me to give you my number?”, he offered, walking over to his desk to get a post-it and a pen to scribble it down. 

“Can I text you? I hate making phone calls”, James asked, when Thomas handed him the note. 

“Whatever you prefer”, Thomas replied with a smirk. 

“Though...I might call you”, James mused. 

“You would?”

“Just to hear your voice...I really liked you reading me ‘Il Decameron’. I mean, I didn’t understand much, but it was nice”, he meant, smiling coyly as he observed that Thomas’s cheeks turned a shade darker. 

“Thanks”, Thomas cleared his throat, clearly a little embarrassed. 

For a short while, they were simply standing there, gazing at each other. James had to admit that he loved Thomas’s eyes, they were unfathomable like the sea and still held so much affection. It wasn’t easy to tear himself away again, but then he realised how Thomas’s gaze wandered down from his own eyes, then back up once more to meet his. They suddenly were standing so close, way too close for his usually liking. But this was different. If it would have been anyone else, James probably would already have run away. But this was Thomas, though, standing so close to him that he could almost feel his warm breath on his face. 

“Would you mind me…Can I kiss you goodnight?”

It was barely more than a whisper and at first James thought he’d imagined it. But the way Thomas was looking at him, a little expectant and also a bit nervous, made it obvious that he hadn’t just misheard. His heart was beating in his throat and his mind protested, told him to run. But he didn’t want to, he didn’t care. If usually he didn’t trust in his feelings too much because he was a highly rational person, this just felt right. So, he listened to his guts this time and nodded lightly, stepping a little closer and lifted his right hand up just enough to brush Thomas’s gently, to signalise him it was alright. Thomas smiled at him shyly before slowly closing the gap between them, then their lips finally met in a sweet and tender kiss. It was like nothing James had ever felt before, he felt stripped of his walls that usually seemed to separate him from everyone else in this world. But with Thomas things had been entirely different from the first time their eyes met. This kiss almost knocked James off his feet, even if it wasn’t highly intense, it surely felt like it. When they parted after a few moments, they still stood so close to each other that their foreheads almost touched and James thought his heart was beating so fast and loudly that Thomas must be able to feel it. 

“This was...”, he brought out after a short while, sounding pretty overwhelmed, not quite able to put the right words on it and took a few little steps back in order to be able to think straight again. 

“I know”, Thomas gave back with a little grin and made James smile as well. 

“I’ll call you soon, okay?”, James meant then. 

“So we can have that pizza?”

“Yeah”, he nodded eagerly. 

“I’m looking forward to it”, Thomas said. “Get home safely”, he added, as James put a hand on the doorknob, signalling he was ready to make his way home.

“Thanks. Goodnight, Thomas”, he returned with a last smile.

“Goodnight, James”, the librarian said, as James already was halfway out on the street. 

He was walking towards the tube station with a wide smile on his face. It truly had been an amazingly beautiful evening. And even if James didn’t have anything he could compare it to, by now he was pretty sure that the way he’d been feeling around Thomas all along was just how love felt like.


End file.
